Chapter 5—Midnight Meeting Part 1

An attack. A bloody, couldn't-be-profitable-if-they'd-tried, cursed, stupid, un-intelligent, bad-consequences, dim-witted, idiotic, battle.

Paris couldn't quite hide his disgust as he watched the other military leaders plan out how they would surround and penetrate Geurdo Fortress. The dim lighting in the room cast a strange glow and shadow over the map that was laid out on the table. The seven leaders, four men and three women, stood in a large and bulging circle around the table making soft comments, while the head leader marked on the map with a thin pencil.

He stood back, wanting so much to comment, but lacking the authority to do so. He was but a general of war. He was there because they were laying out how they were to attack. And he would lead that attack.

But a battle was not the way to solve this problem with there Gerudo. He was not in on all the information that was circulating about the Gerudo and the Hylian Queen and King, but he knew that something was wrong. The chain of events that had led to this upcoming violence needed to be re-examined. Someone needed to check out their people, check the connections, the trades, all communication that had taken place within the last three or four fortnights.

There was no need to shed blood.

A simple talk would most likely clear it up, but these military driven people wanted blood. Gerudo blood.

In his rage, he thought of Savannah. Of where she was, where she would stand in this. If she would flee, or stand by the people whose clothing she wore. Whose side was she on? Would she stand with the Gerudos? He felt an uncanny need to protect her, to warn her, keep her safe.

Suddenly, the outline that was being laid out was purged from his mind as a plan formed. He would go warn her. He would ride to Gerudo Fortress under cover of night, locate her chambers in the great hall and warn her.

His eyes shining with the prospect, he banished the temptation to laugh out loud. It was so heroic, so much like a fairy tale. He assumed much; assumed she was even in Gerudo Fortress, that she was one of them, and not someone else playing a part. He assumed she stayed in the fortress as well.

Goddesses, and then there were the guards. The Gerudo were at war; their stronghold would not be lightly defended. They would be on high alert at all times.

But the feeling of need in him grew and grew as he contemplated what he was about to do. The adventure of it alone would have been enough to entice him. After all, the Goddess Nayru didn't watch over him for nothing. The goddess's battle charm, Nayru's Love, was cradled in a pendent that rested above his heart. Surely love would guide him, for that's what he suddenly feared it was. Paris was no fool and he knew his emotions well. Fondness mixed with need and longing, and the want of being with her, the thought of never seeing Savannah again was painful.

"General?"

Yes, he was in love. It was a brazen conclusion to come to so early in their relationship, but he felt it; knew it with his very soul. It would be.

"General?"

Paris's head snapped up at the sharp command. "Yes, Count?" he addressed the man who had snapped at him, the highest ranking officer present.

"This plan suits you? You've no objections?"

He forced his mind back on track, and studied the map. It was hard, but with the promise to himself that he would go see Savannah come night, his mind managed to settle to his disgusting work.

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A few hours later, Paris dismounted Heath, his eyes fixed on Gerudo Fortress. The moon tonight was, cursedly or blessedly, full, and it cast a bright glow over the lands. It was hard to find already existing shadows to hide in; the desert was really a barren wasteland. He left Heath far enough away from the Fortress that the horse could escape unharmed if something happened, then crept forward. He stayed low, crouching, and moving softly, quickly, across the coarse sand.

For his heroic midnight adventure, he had discarded his armor, leaving it in his tent at the base. He wore simply his tunic tonight over a long-sleeved undershirt and regular cloth pants. His color was black, the color of the night had the moon not been out. Truly, he could see, and was grateful for it, but could also be seen, and for that he was not.

The Fortress loomed ahead of him, giant and threatening in its appearance. He was at the angle where the moonlight hit roughly half of the great hideout and shadow engulfed the remaining part, giving it a menacing glow. But it was made less threatening by the mere fact that inside, Savannah was there.

Reaching into his tunic, he touched the pendent that contained Nayru's Love. It glowed warm and bright against his cool skin, a good sign. Earlier, when he had agreed—more or less—with the Count about the battle, the pendent had been cold and uncomforting.

He continued forward, encouraged by the pendant's warmth, only to stumble back into the shadows when he caught sight of the first guard. He almost laughed. Now came the tricky part. Like most bored guards, she had set down a path to tread, and was wearing a path in the sand. Paris watched her for a long moment, making sure that she truly walked the same direction, turned at the same spots, checked the same darker corners of her eyesight. When he was confident in her path, and she turned her back, he dashed through the open and exposing moonlight and into the shadows near the large gate that led into the "courtyard."

The gate was closed, however, and two of the Gerudo were watching from the top of it. There was a path further along the wall that led up into the heart of the Fortress; he'd have to take that. Moving without a sound and sticking to the shadows, he followed the wall for several yards until he caught sight of the path.

Stone encased it on both the left and right sides, effectively blocking his view of the higher ground. Deciding he had no choice but to risk being close to a guard, he went to the very edge and looked carefully around the stone wall. There weren't any guards actually on the path, but he saw at least three up near the Fortress. Part of the path was bathed in shadow but the other part, the large part, was brightly lit by the moon. If he wasn't careful, one of the Gerudo would catch him before he made it up through the path.

His palms sweaty now, he watched the guards for a moment. These seemed far more alert; they didn't follow a set path. They wandered about, carefully eyeing up the shadows and rock around them.

He looked up at the fortress. A lot of it was in shadows and he took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darker hue as he eyed up the walls. The rock and stone that the fortress was made of should be enough for his long shot to grab onto, he decided. He'd aim high, get to the top of the fortress and work his way down, though, truth be told, he expected their bedchambers to be on the higher levels. It would make sense for their safe havens to be as far away from danger as possible. He pulled out his long shot, quiet and quick.

That left the dedicated guard women. Looking down to his feet, he found small rocks that were scattered in among the sand along the side of the stone entranceway. Taking up one of the largest he could see, he gathered his courage and moved forward, toward the moonlight, ever so slightly.

There were large clay jars kind of far off to his left. It would work. He watched the three women who patrolled the immediate area, waiting for all three of them to have their backs turned. Two turned away, but the third still stared right at the clay jars.

His palms sweaty, his shifted the rock through his fingers, counting to ten, then twenty, thirty, forty, fifty and sixty. Then from sixty to negative sixty. The counting helped him to keep his calm and not act too soon.

Moments passed, fading into one another. His heart still lurched in his chest in a deafening war-drum beat, but he focused on the guards. He knew that eventually, all three would turn away from both him and the jars and that would be his chance.

When his chance came, he almost missed it from being used to it not coming. But as the third woman turned away from jars, he stood in the path, the moonlight coming across the upper half of him. He threw the rock and it struck the clay jar, resonating a hollow sound. He jerked back down as small and as hidden as he could and watched the three guards and another from somewhere else rush to the jars to inspect the sound.

He stood again as soon as they had passed him, aimed high on the fortress walls and let the chain of the long shot fly, praying that the noise it created was beyond the guards' hearing.

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A thanks goes to Spiritual Stone for the review. And an apology to all readers for taking so long. Hope you all enjoy the new chap.